


Better Than You

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 12:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12366102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: It must have been hours before awareness came back to him completely, and even then he was still shaking.





	Better Than You

**Author's Note:**

> The second part of a hurt/comfort request. The fics aren't related in anything except the theme.

Recreational time could not be trusted to most Arkham inmates, and even those to whom it was allowed often could not be trusted not to misuse the privilege. Edward didn’t use it to start trouble, usually. It was a good time to steal some things, get information, trade and make deals. The currency in Arkham was information and contraband. Edward had both and lots of people wanted in on it. However, one could not get something for nothing, and for those with nothing to trade, they would try to wrest what they wanted in different ways. Like poker. It was well known that the Riddler could not turn down a challenge. He needed to best people, and others thought they could exploit that.

But the Riddler was smart. He accounted for that.

“Well boys, looks like this one’s mine.” Despite not having really won anything from his opponents, Eddie looked every inch like the cat who got the cream. Sometimes people just needed to be reminded that he was their intellectual superior. It had been mildly entertaining, but it was done and now Ed was bored. He got up from the table, ready to find some other way to occupy his time, but one of the three men he was playing with stood up as well. The other two just looked confused. They had cheated. How had he still beaten them? Edward met the narrowed gaze of the man who had stood, seemingly unbothered by his aggressive stance. The man was easily ten times his size and could probably snap him in half. Eddie didn’t seem to care.

“You cheated!” The man slammed his hands on the table, but Edward didn’t so much as flinch. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in mock confusion.

“Did I? Hm. No, I don’t believe I did. I’m just better than you. It was to be expected-” His boast was cut off when he was grabbed by the front of his shirt and slammed into a nearby wall. His head smacked against the plaster with an awful sound, making him see stars for a moment. Once they cleared, he could see a very angry face very close to his own. “You may want to invest in mints, my friend-” Again, he was cut off. This time by an arm held to his throat.

“You’re a filthy fucking cheater!” The man bellowed as Edward clawed at his arm, trying to pry it away to breathe. He was held off the ground, feet kicking in an attempt to find purchase. Edward got a grip on the man’s arm, digging his nails in and sneering at the brute in sheer disdain.

“No, I’m just better than you.” He hissed, just before he was dropped back onto his feet. It didn’t last long, as he ended up sprawled on the floor after a good punch in the face. Between the wall and the fist, his ears were ringing and his head was aching. The whole left side of his face felt as if it had exploded, and he had some vague thought about Two-Face before a kick to the gut broke him from his thoughts. The sudden pain in his abdomen paired with the heated ache of his swelling face was familiar. It was home.

“Admit it!” Another kick, and Edward could hear a commotion as the guards caught wind of the scuffle. “Admit you fucking cheated!”

“I didn’t-” The response was automatic. “I didn’t cheat- I didn’t cheat!” He wasn’t scared of the thug beating him, but he wasn’t seeing the thug. He was seeing someone else. He was hearing someone else. He was a different Edward, a smaller Edward, and he was terrified. The kicking stopped, but Edward refused to uncurl. It was never that brief. It would pick up again, he knew. A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he panicked, uncurling so he could smack it away from himself and try to get away, but as he tried to get to his feel he was grabbed. There were two people, one taking hold of each arm, and he knew somewhere in his mind that he wasn’t where he thought he was.

He struggled the whole way as they dragged him, breathlessly pleading to someone only he could see. By time they neared his cell, he had quieted. He hadn’t the energy to walk by himself, or to fight against the guards, and so he let himself be dragged. They didn’t throw him into his cell as they usually did. He didn’t look up, but as soon as the door opened he could hear Crane getting to his feet and demanding to know what had happened. Edward was passed off to his cellmate carefully, and despite the audience they had he slumped against him in exhaustion.

He didn’t remember the guards leaving. He didn’t remember lying down. He remembered keeping his head down and he remembered gentle fingers in his hair. It must have been hours before awareness came back to him completely, and even then he was still shaking. Jonathan had been keeping him at arm’s length, in case too much contact triggered another flashback, but as Edward stirred he moved closer to Jon, seeking comfort. It was if he were trying to hide himself against Jon, but the other man didn’t seem to have any problem with it. He enclosed Edward in his arms and held him tightly, not saying a word.

“...I cheated.” Edward finally spoke, so softly that it would be inaudible if he wasn’t pressed so closely.

“I know.”

“So did they.”

“I know.”

“I just did it better.”

“I know. How do you feel?” Jonathan’s voice was calm and even, almost lulling. It was his ‘therapist voice.’ Edward knew it well.

“Awful.”

“Physically? Emotionally?”

“All of the above.”

“Let me see.” Gently, he nudged Edward away from him to see his face, carefully tracing the outline of the bruising with his long fingers. His hands were always so cold. On a whim, Edward took a hold of Jon’s hand and pressed it fully to the bruise.

“For lack of an actual ice pack.” He explained when Jon simply looked baffled. Jon almost laughed, but his serious expression didn’t quite manage to break. He looked Edward’s sorry state over for another moment, shards of ice slowly crystallizing in his gaze. Then he spoke again, the chill carrying into his voice.

“You know I’ll want a name.”

“Adams.” Edward provided immediately.

“I’ll make him wish he were dead.” Jonathan swore, and Edward managed a smile. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to him.

“You spoil me.” He teased, albeit rather weakly.

“I suppose someone has to.” Carefully, Jon moved his hand and kissed just below Edward’s swollen eye. There was a moment where it looked like Edward might cry, but instead he just burrowed against Jonathan again, face hidden against the other man's neck. It was a long time before he spoke again, and honestly Jon had begun to think he was asleep.

“...Jonathan?” He started. There was a small hum of acknowledgement, and so he continued. “...Is this… do you enjoy this? The fear. When I go back there.” He didn’t get an answer immediately. In fact, it was quiet for so long afterwards that he began to wonder if Jon had even heard him. When Jonathan finally spoke, it was very soft, and very cautious.

“...I don’t… like…. Seeing you be terrorized by… other people.” He was clearly choosing his words very carefully. “I am…. Conflicted. I don’t like seeing you suffer. But I won’t lie to you, you… are beautiful, when you’re terrified. I have my compulsions, I have my… interests. I… enjoy a… part of it. But. Not enough to wish for it. Not with you, anyway.” Jonathan gave off a vibe as if that entire explanation was a minefield, and Edward couldn’t help but press a kiss against the curve of his neck where he was hidden.

“... You really think I’m beautiful?” He teased.

“Gorgeous.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“I want to be around to see it when you destroy him.” Edward muttered, on the edge of sleep. Breakdowns were… exhausting. Jonathan made a soft sound of acknowledgement. Edward was pressed too closely for his long arms to reach around and brush his hands through his hair or any similar acts of comfort, and so he settled for holding him. It was all he could do, until he could get his hands on Adams. Or, his words rather. He had no toxin on him inside of Arkham, but that was fine. He’d take his time with this one. He could tear the man apart with words in such a way he had yet to replicate with his toxins. It would be glorious.

Hopefully, it would make Edward feel better.


End file.
